Page 68 of The Hearth Witch’s Guide to Spite & Spellwork

Saga was not a performer by any means, and other than a few ill-advised karaoke nights, she had not sung in public. But the song was on her lips without a thought or a fear. “Of all the money that e’re I had, I spent it in good company.” Her voice shook just a little as she began but found its ground by the second line. Had the room grown quieter or was she merely far more aware of how her own voice filled the space? “And all the harm that e’re I done, alas it was to none but me.”

Saga had known “The Parting Glass” since she was a child. It had been sung at both her grandparents’ funerals and at so many funerals before theirs. An old folk song. A song for those who had gone and those they had left behind. A song of family, friends, and the joys and pangs of life. She expected many to know the words—at least whatever version they’d been taught in their time. What she did not expect, as her voice rose above the din, was for others to join in singing.

First it was Esteri, who came by to set down another mug of mulled wine, giving Avery’s shoulder a squeeze as she moved on.

Then another voice joined in, a rich and resonant bass, quickly followed by a sweet soprano’s harmony.

The song caught on like fire, spreading throughout the café until there was not a corner where you could not hear a voice raise up. Someone even began playing along on a violin. The impromptu chorus vibrated against the walls and caused the will-o’-the-wisps to dance through the branches of the great oak tree.

Nostalgic smiles were exchanged between patrons, and tears arose as the swell of the music overcame them. Saga wondered in that moment how many fey who sat among them had also been forced to say goodbye to the mortals they loved.

Avery held the mug against her chest and stared fixedly at the fireplace. No tears had fallen, but her eyes shone like moonlight on the water. Her voice did not raise enough for Saga to hear it over the others, but she watched Avery’s lips mouth the words.

But since it falls unto my lot

That I should rise and you should not.

Avery’s eyes closed tightly with those words, and at last the tears streamed down her cheeks.

I’ll gently rise and softly call

Good night and joy be to you all.

People cheered glasses and embraced, caught in the unexpected collective effervesce of the moment.

“Thank you,” Avery whispered, finally meeting Saga’s eyes once more. “That was…magic.”

Saga smiled and raised her own mug to cheers her companion. “I really hope you remember it.”

“Why would I not remember it?”

33Aarre: (Finnish) Treasure, a term of endearment.

Chapter 16 Avery

“Avery?”

Avery shook herself from the sleeping daze she’d nearly drifted into. Her head felt fuzzy. Between the warmth of the fire and the comfort of the plush velvet chair she’d sunk into, it was difficult to stay awake. Her eyes darted across to the other side of the hearth to see Matilda curled up in an overstuffed armchair, working on her embroidery. “I’m fine.” A lie. She felt herself telling it before she could even understand why.

“You have that troubled look,” Matilda insisted. Her blond hair was pinned off her neck. A vision in a white cotton dress, with the eyes of a hawk that were currently suspicious and trained on Avery.

“That’s just her face,” said Thomas from his seat on the floor, head resting against Matilda’s knee. His eyes were closed as if he expected to be able to fall asleep in that position.

Matilda gave his shoulder a gentle thwap. “It’s not just her face, she’s worried about something.”

“She should be,” gloated Oliver. Identical twin or not, there was very little similarity between the Wild brothers beyond their square jaws and nut-brown hair. He adjusted the cards in his hand, his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth. “I’m about to trounce her.”

Avery knew this game well. He was all bluster. “You do know that whenever you bluff, you overcompensate and posture?”

Oliver peeked at her from either side of his cards. “Is that what I’m doing? Or do I know you know that, so I am playing it up to throw you off?” His jaw dropped, pretending to be scandalized by his own revelation.

“Unlikely,” deadpanned Avery.

“Is it?” Oliver doubled down and pushed the rest of his pile of acorns into the middle of the table.

He was making enough noise about it that Isabella was able to mock him without looking up from her book. “That boldness does not quite hold the same weight when you play for acorns, Oliver.”

The blustering blustered further. “I will have you know these are very expensive acorns.” He smiled to himself and took great pride in letting them all know. “Stole them off a tree in Belgravia.”